


will still fall off the tree

by theleaveswant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, If you only read one work by me, Loss of Trust, Missing Scene, One of My Favorites, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, SHIELD, Secrets, mid-Iron Man Three, mid-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/theleaveswant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers' trust in SHIELD was eroding well before the <i>Lemurian Star</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	will still fall off the tree

They were on an airplane on the other side of the world when it happened, so Steve, at least, had no idea what was going on until after they’d landed and debriefed. He found Natasha in one of the observation suites a few minutes later, staring up at the shifting mosaic of intangible monitors, the same handful of camera angles and ticker-tape soundbites playing over and over on a dozen networks, in half a dozen languages, the smouldering rubble of Stark’s Malibu mansion broadcast live for a whole planet to gawk at. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. “I know you knew him better than I did.”

She ‘hm?’ed distractedly, attention still largely directed upwards. He took a half-step closer to her and ducked his head, keeping his voice low but allowing it more force. 

“I was willing to take it on faith that SHIELD had a plan to deal with this Mandarin situation, but now . . . This has gotten so far out of hand.”

“It’s messier than we’d hoped,” she agreed.

“Let’s go,” Steve said, and started shifting his weight towards the door. Natasha’s head swung round to look at him.

“Where?”

“To . . .” Steve frowned and gestured at the screens. “ . . . Avenge?”

“Avenge what, a house?” They stared at each other blankly for a moment before Natasha gasped in comprehension. “Steve, nobody died. At least, nobody on our team.”

“But—Stark—?”

“Wasn’t in there when it fell. Or he was, but he got out. Last ping from the Tony Trackers puts him somewhere over the Texas Panhandle, with a projected destination of . . .” She tapped twice at the keypad of the terminal in front of her. “Memphis, Tennessee. Huh.” She shrugged.

“‘Tony Trackers’,” Steve repeated, then sighed. Was he imagining the thin glaze of pity crusting on Natasha’s sympathetic smile? “Right. So are we going to go help him?”

“There’s a team waiting to step in if the situation becomes unrecoverable.”

Steve glared at the screens with distaste, wondering exactly what constituted ‘unrecoverable’. “Are _we_ going to go help him?”

“If Director Fury tells us to.” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Come on,” Natasha said, laying her left hand gently on his upper arm. “You’re not really that surprised by this, are you?”

 

Deputy Director Hill looked up dispassionately as Steve crossed the helicarrier bridge to join her, tugging crossly at his new combat uniform. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

She cleared her throat disapprovingly at the junior analyst droning the words “hang the DJ” repeatedly under his breath, then accepted a tablet from another deck officer and studied it closely. “Plan for what?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the facade of obtuse innocence that was, as far as Steve could tell, a compulsory module in the training of all SHIELD employees. “For the hostile alien tent peg that’s just planted itself in Greenwich.”

Hill shrugged and returned the tablet. “The plan here is to monitor the situation and provide recommendations for containment. I expect you think you’ve got a better idea?”

“It’s a long flight to England; plenty of time to come up with something en route.” His fingers clenched on either side of his belt buckle. “It’s Thor and what, a handful of scientists? Against a host of unfamiliar extraterrestrials. Seems to me like they could use support from someone a little better equipped than campus security.”

“You’re equipped for that?” Hill pointed to a satellite image, crackly with interference, of the beached alien ship and the swirling clouds of whatever-that-was that had started massing around it.

“Not on my own,” Steve admitted. “But if you call in the Avengers—”

“Look, you’re right,” Hill said with a sigh, turning to face him full-on. “It is a long flight to England. And by the time you get there this will all be over, one way or another. If you want to volunteer to help with cleanup that’s great, I’ll put your name on the list, but that’s about the most help you can be with this one.”

“And if they can’t handle it?”

“Well, then, I guess we’re all screwed, aren’t we? Here.” She picked up another tablet and passed it to him. “In the event they do handle it, Agent Hand’s got a job for you.”

 

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Director Fury said quickly as Steve marched past the indignant assistant into his office and froze, startled by the split-second glimpse he got of Fury’s conversational partner before he flicked the holoscreen out of existence. Fury leaned back in his chair, chin raised, and regarded him coolly. “Captain.” 

“Was that . . .” Steve’s eyes closed, holding onto the glowing negative of the face on the screen—the square jaw and receding hairline, the affected blandness of the smile, the surprising lack of decomposition for a man who was supposed to be almost two years buried. “ _WHAT THE FUCK!?_ ”


End file.
